The Starting Line-Unexpected Domesticity
by web of light
Summary: Circumstances force Sam and Bucky to retreat to an old Hydra Safe House, while on a mission, bringing back old memories. Sam understands more than Bucky realizes. Second in a series of one-shots exploring the relationship between Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. SamBucky Week 19 Prompts-Domesticity


"Damn it! They've compromised the perimeter. They're here," Sam said, tapping his goggles.

"Told you," Bucky said. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but feel smug about being right.

"Shut up," Sam countered.

"So should we take them out?" Bucky asked. He raised his rifle and peered through the scope.

"Why is that always your first reaction? The answer is no, this is a stealth mission and there's too many people around. They haven't spotted us. We need a place to go, where we can regroup."

"Regroup? There's just the two of us," Bucky said.

"You know what I mean!" Sam said. He crossed his arms and even though he couldn't see his eyes, Bucky knew he was staring him down and he knew what he meant. It had been a rough couple of hours, hunting down the evasive kill squad through the dark streets of D.C. They needed a quiet place to plan a new strategy. "You used to skulk around here, back in the old days. You know of a place we can lie low until morning?"

The old days. Bucky appreciated the delicate way he referred to his assassin past. He switched the safety on and lowered his weapon. He cast his mind back to that time, and a memory resurfaced.

"There was a place, close to here, but it's been years. The city might have torn it down by now."

"Let's check it out. We're out of options."

"Yes, Cap."

"I told you not to call me that!"

Between Bucky's hyper reactions and Sam's sensors, they avoided late-night wanderers, going through alleys and quietly making their way through back yards until they came to a gated wrought-iron fence. Bucky opened it easily and together they walked down a long brick path, lined with trees and thick shrubbery. They came to an ordinary-looking residential home.

"Cozy," Sam said. He tapped his googles. "No heat signatures. If anybody lives here, they're not at home."

Bucky broke open the lock on the door and turned on the light. Even though everything looked neat and in order, there was something about the place that gave the impression that no one had been here for a long time. There was light dust on everything and the stuffy smell of a place that hadn't known fresh air for a while.

"What is this?" Sam asked.

"A Hydra safe house. Did you see how far back from the street this is? And the jungle in the front yard? No one will notice us back here," Bucky said.

"You stay here often?" Sam asked, removing his goggles and started unbuckling his wings.

"Some," Bucky replied. The front room was open to the kitchen. Bucky walked over to the sink and turned the water on and off and then opened the refrigerator.

"Everything works, but there's no food. We could order a pizza," he said.

"A pizza?"

"Why not? What's what we did, back then."

Sam let out a low laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble imagining a bunch of Hydra goons sitting around eating pizza."

Bucky shrugged. "They got hungry, and they liked American pizza."

Sam finished removing his gear and placed it on the floor. Bucky unstrapped his firearms and opened a nondescript standing cabinet revealing a small arsenal. He placed his guns inside it. The knife he kept in place, holstered against his thigh. He stared at it for a long moment, remembering each weapon and every time he used them. He didn't realize how long he'd been standing there until he felt Sam's presence beside him.

"Damn," he said. "We're ready for anything. Got any grenades in there?"

"They had everything." He shut the door firmly and turned to face Sam, wishing he could lock away the memories just as easily. "So you want that pizza or not? I'm hungry. You can call them on your...thing...and we'll tell them to meet us down at the end of the path. We don't want anybody back here."

"My thing?" Sam said and laughed but replaced his goggles. "What do you want, and what's the address?"

"The address is 25 South J Street, and I don't care. Just anything."

"OK, anchovies and pineapple."

"What the...no! What the hell?"

"So you do care. How about meat lovers?"

"Ok. Sounds good." Bucky got the faint impression Sam was trying to making him laugh.

Sam tapped his googles and gave the order and even remembered to tell them to meet him at the end of the yard. He settled down in a recliner and looked over the furnishings. His eyes settled on a nearby telephone.

"A landline!" He reached over to pick up the receiver. Bucky felt panic from an old memory rise inside him.

"Don't touch that!" he said, surprising himself at the harshness of his tone.

Sam stopped his hand in mid-air. "Why? Will it explode?"

Bucky relaxed when he remembered his present circumstances. This was Sam, he didn't care about minor infractions. "I'm sorry. They didn't let me touch it. They didn't allow me to do anything except eat and sleep in this place. My handlers did all the talking. I don't know who was on the other end of that thing. It's probably disconnected."

Sam moved his hand away from the phone, keeping his eyes on Bucky. "Should we even be here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. This house, being here can't be good for you. Let's find someplace else."

"No, I'm good, besides, I'm starving and you already ordered the pizza. Let's talk about the mission. How many did you see?" He walked over to the window and flicked the blinds so he could see outside. Everything was quiet. He went back to the kitchen and poured himself a drink of water, then went back to the living area.

"Three," Sam said. "Why don't you sit down. You're pacing."

"I am not!"

"Just sit down. We know there were five, so that means two unaccounted for. The conference is tomorrow, we've alerted the targets, but can't take any chances." Bucky obeyed, taking his place on the sofa, the talk stayed mission-focused until the pizza arrived. Sam went outside to get it, leaving Bucky alone in the house for a few minutes, with his memories. Sam was right. Why did he think it was a good idea to come here? Every corner of the house reminded him of something. He wouldn't get any sleep tonight, it would be hell. He felt anxious about Sam's short absence and relief when he heard him at the door.

"So we're agreed," Sam declared as he sat back down and opened the box. "We let the locals collar the ones we saw tonight, and we look for the other two tomorrow and since you know where the best positions are to pull off a hit, we'll smoke them out," Sam said. The savory smell of the pizza permeated the room, and Sam's presence helped to ease the voices in his head.

"Sounds good," Bucky said. He did his best to focus. This wasn't good. He couldn't fall apart, not now, not after all this time, after he'd been so successful in holding things together.

"Why don't we stay out here tonight," Sam said. "This chair is comfortable, that couch looks all right. Does that TV work?"

"Used to. They, the handlers, just watched the news all the time."

Sam replaced his goggles again, gave them a couple of taps, this time the TV came on, and the channels flipped until landing on a sports network.

"Are you stealing someone's cable?" Bucky asked.

"Borrowing it, for a good cause. I know, on good authority, that Steve Rogers used to 'borrow cars' back in the day. He told me."

"During the war," Bucky replied, smiling to himself. He helped himself to a slice of pizza and made himself comfortable on the couch. He knew what Sam was doing. He was making sure he wouldn't be alone with his memories tonight.


End file.
